Believe In That Stuff
by strbck23
Summary: Post-Post Modern Prometheus
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: They are legally in the hands of Ten Thirteen. And they're doing a pretty good job with them. I wish I could thank all of them for the wonderful 6 episodes we just got. And let them know just how greedily we are waiting for more. As if they don't know.

Rating: This is like a PG. Look into my Crystal Ball and…ooh, I see two FBI agents and ahem! Hoo boy! They are not doing very PG things. Madame Sarah is never wrong. Smut is coming.

Spoilers: Post-Post Modern Prometheus. Cancer arc references.

Author's Notes: Did the final scene of Post Modern Prometheus really happen? Was it just a happy ending written by Izzy Berkowitz? If you think so, IDGAF. Sorry! Not sorry! Haha. I'm going to have as much fun with this story as my brain will let me. Yeah, I also said I was going to take a little break. I read for like, a day, before I got another idea. So I'm back for now. Enjoy!

*Thanks to Stephanie for helping me along to think of the name of Sonny, and also a later character.*

Feedback? GET IN MY BELLY!

* * *

"I want to speak to the writer," I had said as Izzy Berkowitz walked into the kitchen of that farm house.

Izzy looked at me with his blank stare for a moment before asking, "What did I do now?"

"Nothing, I just…" I sigh and look at Scully. As I expected she would be, she was looking at me with one eyebrow perched up, arms crossed. "I just don't like this ending."

"Oh…" Izzy stands there in the doorway so long, both Scully and I turn back to him, eyebrows raised. "You know, I heard on the radio that Cher is coming to Indianapolis in a few months. Doesn't he like her a lot?"

xxxxx

Scully had taken a curious liking to the Great Mutato over the next few days before we left Indiana. Normally, she would balk at the misguided crimes that had been committed by him. She had, not for the first time, surprised me with her compassion. He was very bright, and very curious about what we did for a living, so he and Scully had a lot to talk about before we left town a couple of days after the case wrapped.

She had gathered that he liked to be called Sonny. Not only because of Sonny Bono, but because his 'father' had called him Son, or Sonny after never giving him a proper name.

The women were not pressing charges, and the only charges brought up would be against Doctor Pollidori.

xxxxx

A few months later, I was opening mail in the office. "Hey, Scully, we got a letter from Sonny."

"We did?" She said with an almost proud smile, coming to perch on the edge of my desk. She puts a finger on the letter, turning it so she can see it for a moment. "He's got nice handwriting." His father had taught him to read, but not write, so he had been practicing.

"Very nice. 'Dear Mr. Mulder and Miss Scully,'" I glance at her as I read aloud and catch her smiling before she can check it. "'I would have called but I thought this would be a great opportunity to practice my handwriting. Guess what! Cher called me on the phone yesterday! She will be in Indianapolis in two weeks. She said that she will host a private concert for me and whomever I wish to invite. I have invited many people from around here. I am writing to ask each of you to please, come. Ms. Berkowitz and Mrs. Pollidori both want you to meet our babies.'" He went on to give the details for the concert and to ask us once more to please come to his Cher concert. I fold the letter closed and look up at Scully.

"Well, that was nice of him," she says, stoically, looking down at her nails.

"You want to go, don't you?" My eyes linger on her exposed, smooth, nylon-covered knee where her skirt has ridden up for just a moment, after tapping her there with the folded letter from my chair.

"Well, do you have any leads?"

I pick up a tabloid from the mail pile, perusing it quickly. "Ooh, look, Scully. Here's a story of a man who claims to turn into a polar bear, every full moon. In Alaska!" I test her.

"Mulder…" She doesn't want to, but she almost believes me. I smirk at her and close the tabloid.

"Ah, well, I gotta use some vacation time anyway." She smiles down at me, a tight lipped, but nonetheless pretty smile. The Scully equivalent of a toothy grin and a big hug. She had just had an appointment with her doctor the day before, and we were both still in high spirits after learning her cancer was still in remission. I hand her the folded letter and the envelope it had come in. "Here's the details. Book us a flight."

xxxxx

Days later, Scully and I are back in the kitchen of that old farm house. Sonny had decided to stay on the farm. Many people had come together to build Sonny a new barn for his animals, and he was continuing to run the farm with their help.

We are all standing up from the kitchen table after a short visit with the mothers after Scully had given the babies each equal attention. I had watched her look at the babies, not with disgust but with equal scientific curiosity and that wonder most any woman gets at a new baby. It was the first time that I had seen Scully smiling at anything without looking up at me to gauge my reaction or check her emotions. I allowed myself a few minutes while she was busy with them to beat myself up for not telling her yet of her ova that I had found during her illness.

We are at the door now, saying goodbye to Sonny. He timidly takes one of Scully's hands before she places one hand over the top of his. I am staring at their hands. I look at her smooth white skin and polished nails over his rough, unsightly hand. I have never realized just how small and feminine her hands were before. Then again, I was noticing a lot of things I hadn't noticed about her lately.

"Miss Scully, I would greatly appreciate it if I could ride with you two to the concert tomorrow since you are only in town for such a short period of time."

Scully looks at me expectantly. When she catches me looking at their hands, she has to answer for both of us as it takes me a second to replay what I just heard in my head. "That should not be a problem. We will pick you up tomorrow. Bye." She says after she takes her hands from Sonny's and waves goodbye to the two new mothers.

A few hours later we are sitting at a booth in the diner for dinner. Scully has been somewhat distant since we left Sonny's farm. Not unfriendly, she answers me when I talk to her. But I sense she is more on her mind than usual. "Is something the matter, Scully?"

"Huh? Oh, uh…" She looks up at me from her salad that she had been pushing around with her fork more than eating. She looks surprised, but then again not, that I noticed anything was wrong to begin with. She sighs, "Mulder, seeing those babies today…" She clears her throat and pushes her plate away after laying her fork down, obviously done.

'She knows,' I think…I sigh and put down the half eaten last half of my sandwich, done myself. "Yeah…?" I can't even look at her.

"I learned a while back that I can't have children because…because of what they did to me."

"Oh," I say, pathetically playing with the straw in my plastic diner glass before forcing myself to look at her. "I'm sorry."

Her eyes show the smallest hint of tears. She blinks and shakes her head, taking a sip of her water, avoiding my eyes once more. "I don't want to talk about that, not here. We're on 'vacation.'" She forces a smile and a quick glance to me. I had just been wondering if I should tell her what I'd found during her illness, but I selfishly postpone that conversation for the thousandth time. 'She doesn't want to talk about it now,' I tell myself. But I do place my right hand over her left hand that she's got casually rested up on the edge of the table. I once again notice how small her hand is as I move my thumb between her thumb and finger, closing the back of her hand into mine. She looks at our joined hands for a long few moments, then squeezes briefly before pulling away. She clears her throat once more and gets up, placing her napkin on the table. "Let's go, Mulder. Big day tomorrow."

When we make it back to the hotel, she passes my door, walking towards hers. She wishes me good night and is gone before I can think of anything to say. I sigh, get into my room and prepare for bed. I strip down to my boxers and take my toiletry bag to the bathroom. I begin placing all the contents on the sink, looking for my toothpaste. "Shit…" I say, after I've removed everything. I must have forgotten it. I look at the connecting doors between our rooms, trying to decide if I can wait until morning to borrow hers. I probably could, but I don't want to. Not for the taste of onions in my mouth, but for the chance to check on her. I find a T-shirt and put it on before opening the door on my side and knocking on hers.

She opens it. "What'd you forget, Mulder?" she asks as she finishes buttoning the bottom two buttons on her pajama shirt.

My eyes glance down at her hands for just a moment before giving her my best helpless smile. "Toothpaste."

She disappears toward her bathroom for a moment. When she comes back, she is squeezing toothpaste onto her own toothbrush before she hands me her toothpaste. "You'd forget your head if it weren't attached, Mulder."

I smirk and take the toothpaste from her. "Thanks," I say, but as she's closing the door, I say her name and reach out, barely brushing her chin with my finger quickly so she'll look at me. I search her eyes with my own, with experience in the task, looking for any sign that she is not fine. She does in fact look fine, just a little weary. "I'm sorry, Scully."

I see her internally debate whether she should pretend I was talking about the toothpaste before she licks her lips, letting her shoulders slump just slightly before lowering her head, her arms hanging at her sides. I move to her, taking her loosely into my arms. I look over her shoulder for a moment into her room, before looking down and cupping the back of her head as she turns her face to rest her cheek on my chest.

Her arms wrap around my ribs, not coming to rest on my back. Toothbrush in one hand, not willing or not needing to place her other hand on me. I feed off of her closeness for as long as I can, not knowing when she will pull away from me. The last time I had been graced with it was her trying to keep me warm in the Florida woods. I hope she doesn't sense my smirk as I recall her singing to me.

I stroke my thumb over her soft hair when she doesn't immediately pull away. She takes a deep breath against my chest, her free hand finally resting on my back. Ever since she had been diagnosed with cancer, I began to appreciate every bit of contact with her. Every reminder that she was still her with me, physically. I remember kissing her cheek in the hospital, still to this day unsure where that came from, and why she was so accepting of it. But it had been nice nonetheless. I close my eyes and hold her just a little tighter when my mind recalls when she told me, "They gave me this disease to make you believe."

When I am alone, I think of her. About everything she's gone through on account of me. I dwell in the guilt and the worry that it could return. It seems that I would dwell and worry more when she is around, but sometimes, most of the time I am able to forget. Lately, I am able to forget a lot of things when I am near her. Not completely, but I find I am able to push away some of those all-consuming thoughts for awhile. Since her remission, somehow we talked just a little more. Not just about whatever case we may be working on. On long car rides, we had begun having conversations I considered fun and intellectual, like mental games of ping pong. Sometimes we even talked about things like movies, childhood stories (mostly her), or food (mostly me).

I even found I began to think of her outside of work, something we had talked about. Or I would see something on TV that I wanted to talk to her about. I would start to call her, and then change my mind before dialing the last number. I didn't want to bother her, and would decide it would be better to talk about in person anyway.

She sighs here in my arms, pulling me back out of my thoughts just as she pulls away from me. Just as she had started to warm my chest. "Good night, Mulder." She says and nods, looking at my eyes only briefly before closing the door. I sigh, brush my teeth and go to bed.

xxxxx

The next day I wake before she does. I grab some breakfast, and return to my room. I pick up her toothpaste and knock on her side of the connecting door. She answers before I have to knock again, rubbing her eyes. I hold out the bag with her breakfast in it and her toothpaste.

She yawns, nods her thanks before taking my offerings, and closes her door to almost a crack to get ready. I sit at the table and read the paper, listening to the sounds of her getting ready. Showering, drying her hair, getting dressed. I hear her makeup items click open and closed as she applies it. I am unable to stop my mind from picturing some of the steps, staring at her door a few times as I do. I quickly look down at the paper when I see the door moving as she opens it. Not that I could have seen anything through her door, but I still feel guilty.

She looks me over. "Why did we dress like we're going to work?" She smirks at me in my suit and tie, stepping into my room enough to show me she is wearing one of her work skirt suits.

"I suppose we don't give ourselves much opportunity for fun, do we?" I smirk back at her, she does look pretty professional for a concert.

"We? Mulder? I can hardly make fun plans in advance, and usually have to cancel." I know the difference between picking-a-fight Scully and smart-ass Scully. This happens to be the latter. She's letting me know she is okay after yesterday, and maybe even thanking me a little in a way that I will appreciate.

"if you ever have a date, Scully, just let me know." I squint at her, watching closely for her reaction, testing one of the boundaries of our newfound ease of casual conversation.

She squints back, with her hand up on the door jamb of the connecting doors, trying to tell if I'm being mean-spirited or playfully facetious. She also decides it was the latter and smirks once more. "Let's go to a Cher concert, Mulder."

xxxxx

Sonny's enthusiasm at seeing Cher live is certainly infectious, and I am smiling so wide my face hurts. I honestly cannot remember the last time I've smiled for such a long amount of time. I catch Scully's eyes behind Sonny's back at one point and see her in the same state. Free from worry about everything: cancer, conspiracies, me. Then Cher pulls Sonny up on the stage to dance. I think for a moment, but not too long about asking Scully to dance. Then, rather than ask, I throw my arm out, offering her my hand. To my surprise and relief, she takes it. I pull her swiftly up off of her feet and right up against me, wanting to feel her closer than I held her last night even. I suppose I was swept up in the moment, as they say.

As we begin to move and my eyes meet hers, I am suddenly so thankful for her. As with every time I touch her now, everything else in the world fades away just a little. I am able to almost forget about that little conversation that we need to have, that I have something to tell her. But, also, in this moment, I want to believe we will make it through that just as we make it through everything else.

She was becoming the first true friend I'd had in a long time. No, with her smiling at me, her eyes bright and so open that I can see right inside her, I realize she's the best friend I've had in my life. She had worked her way in, despite myself. Despite every wall I'd put up to keep people at arm's length. Somehow she's broken through or climbed over every wall I have consciously or unconsciously erected since 1973. Since Samantha was taken, or abducted, or whatever scenario it is that I believe happened today.

As I look into Scully's eyes, I feel something like butterflies in my stomach, and am glad I decided to slow down and just live, if even for today. It felt so good to hold someone, to hold Scully close. Tomorrow, I know the nagging sense of purpose and drive to keep on doing what we're doing will return. But tonight, we dance, and watch Sonny and Cher on stage.

* * *

Posted on 2/23/16. HAPPY 52ND BIRTHDAY, SCULLAAYYYY!

To be continued...


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: They are legally in the hands of Ten Thirteen. And they're doing a pretty good job with them. I wish I could thank all of them for the wonderful 6 episodes we just got. And let them know just how greedily we are waiting for more. As if they don't know.

Rating: This is like a PG-13ish. Look into my Crystal Ball and…ooh, I see two FBI agents and ahem! Hoo boy! They are not doing very PG-13ish things. Madame Sarah is never wrong. Smut is coming.

Spoilers: Post-Post Modern Prometheus. Cancer arc references.

Author's Notes: Did the final scene of Post Modern Prometheus really happen? Was it just a happy ending written by Izzy Berkowitz? If you think so, IDGAF. Sorry! Not sorry! Haha. I'm going to have as much fun with this story as my brain will let me.

This is a pretty long chapter, but I had literally no idea where I should break it into two chapters. OH WELLL. Thanks to new friends once again for gushing X-Files with me like all day err-day. Jenny, Steph and Jaime, I heart y'all.

Feedback? GET IN MY BELLY!

* * *

The Cher concert had been early in the afternoon. She had put on an extra show for Sonny before her actual performance that night. After our show, Sonny was like an excited child in the back seat. He and Scully were chatting. I glanced over at her and she smiled at me. I forced one back at her, but I was deep in my thoughts.

Scully had a good time today. Her happiness is genuine. I wish I could say I had something to do with that, but I really didn't. Her brother had called me a "sorry son of a bitch." I tried not to believe that, I feel like she made me better than that, better than I used to be. I really had begun to wonder if the costs were becoming too high. Yet, every time I thought that way, I would think of Samantha. Sometimes I wanted to let her go and just live my own life. Sometimes I hated myself for wanting to let Samantha go. If I let her go, I may never find her. But if I continue to search, I still may never find her, and I could somehow lose Scully.

I remember the moment I walked into that hospital and saw her in that bed. It nearly knocked me over, the sight of her. I look at her now, alive and smiling over her shoulder, chatting with Sonny. She catches my eye and her eyes soften along with her smile, and I feel the same as I did when I was dancing with her. Everything else falls away. I wonder if she feels that too.

xxxxx

We have been invited to an after party of sorts. After a quick, wordless conversation, Scully and I decided we had nothing better to do that night. Several people from the show would be going to a bar within walking distance from our hotel. Sonny told us that he had a ride home, so we could drink if we wished.

It is a small place, and pretty crowded tonight. There is a pool table, dart board, jukebox and small dance floor. Other than that, a few tables and chairs scattered throughout the place. We manage to get up to the bar, to one open spot. I usher Scully up to it with a hand on her back before placing my hands on both sides of her on the bar, leaning over her and looking behind it.

"What do you want, Scully? Oh, beer or…beer. Looks like it's beer only." I look at her, my face just inches away from hers. It seems completely casual, I think. 'Hey, just no more room at the bar.' But I'm really just a sorry son of a bitch who craves human contact sometimes. Not any human, this human. "Maybe they have some wine?"

"I can drink beer, Mulder."

"Now see, that is just something I can't believe." I rest my hand just on the small of her back, leaning in closer to her face just a bit more. I smirk at her, knowing she won't like that comment.

"The tables are turned," she quips.

"The roles are reversed," I shoot back.

The person next to her at the bar wanders off. I look up at the open spot, deciding I should probably move away now. She turns her head for a moment to notice the same thing, but looks back to me, and I think I must have involuntarily moved my face closer to where hers would be before she turned back. Neither of us move for a long moment before the bartender finally gets around to us. I clear my throat and withdraw from her personal space to stand next to her at the bar.

After we get a couple drinks, we move away from the bar to make room for anyone else who might need in. We move to the center of the room where there is kind of a small shelf to put drinks and ashtrays on between two support beams. We both look around for a moment before leaning against it and facing each other. I take her in, the contradiction of my Scully in her proper skirt suit holding a beer bottle.

She smirks and takes a sip, and I watch her as if I'm watching some freak of nature. Not with disgust, no. With something akin to wonder. I watch the area between her eyebrows give the tiniest hint that she reacts to the bitterness, but she otherwise has no reaction. Until she raises her eyebrows, asking me 'what?' with her face.

"Nothing, you just proved me wrong is all." I take my first big sip from my own bottle. We stand there for several more minutes in silence, just listening to the music and people watching. Neither of us really fit in here, and I imagine we won't be here too late.

Finally, Sonny, Mr. Popularity, has made his way around after saying hello to nearly everyone here. He walks up and takes Scully's hand. "I want to thank you for today," he says.

She shakes her head, "It was no trouble at all. Our pleasure. We enjoyed ourselves." She looks at me, and I nod once in agreement.

"No, not only for attending and driving me. I suspect you had something to do with Cher contacting me."

I lean forward so I can see her face, she avoids my eyes and licks her lips. "I may know someone who knows someone who knows someone…"

"Thank you, it was the best day of my life." I think I actually see her cheeks turn a little pink, she's not used to someone thanking her. 'One sorry son of a bitch, speaking…'

"You're welcome."

She lets go of his hands to pick up and finish her beer. I take her empty bottle along with mine, asking wordlessly if she wants to stay for another one. She nods so I say, "I'll get it," and go off to the bar after Sonny declines anything to drink.

I return in the middle of a conversation, handing Scully her beer. "Oh wow, it's been years. Since college."

"What, now?" I ask, unable to resist inserting some innuendo.

She squints at me before looking at Sonny again. "He was just saying that his father had a dartboard, he's had some practice, and asked me to a friendly game. Sure, I'll play." She puts her drink down and removes her jacket, laying it on the shelf before picking up her drink again. "Darts, Mulder?"

"You're going to play darts? No, thank you. This, I think I'm going to have to stand back and observe." I am actually laughing a little.

She gives me her best glare, letting me know she is not amused before going to the dart board with Sonny. The crowd is beginning to slowly thin out, so I can pretty well see them from here.

She sits her beer down on a table behind the throwing line, after someone offers her the space. The people sitting there are getting riled up, ready to see what kind of competition this will be. A few of them, mostly older men, stand up and introduce themselves to her. I hear one of them telling her how good Sonny is and they hope she's had some practice. She laughs and says she is pretty rusty, but she believes she can give him a challenge at least.

She takes a sip of her beer and sits it back down, asking Sonny who is up. "Ladies first!" a few of them yell and she laughs, turning her foot at an angle and aiming her first dart. I watch her and it seems that I see her in slow motion, my eyes first taking in the dart in her (as I've just recently noticed) very small hand. I then look at her face as she licks her lips. She squints a little and looks down at her feet, adjusting her lead foot just a bit. My gaze turns to her foot, raised in that heel. Then to her other foot, which she raises just slightly off the ground as she throws her first dart. My eyes move back up her body as she does this, guiltily moving over all of her curves.

'I am so in love with her,' I think. Just as casually as if I had thought, 'my favorite color is yellow.' But the aftershock of my thought hits me in waves. Like the pure joy and relief that I felt when we got the news that her cancer was in remission, then hearing that the Smoking Man was presumed dead. Like that, but more mind blowing.

I know, certainly, that I cared for her more than anyone before, more than myself even. I know, surely, that I would probably go crazy without her, that I needed her now more than anyone before. I know, positively, I've suppressed fleeting, and some not so fleeting, non-platonic thoughts of her. I know, without a doubt, that I have loved her for quite some time, now that I really think about it.

But, I had thought, 'in love.' I can't recall ever thinking that way about anyone before. She looks over at me after throwing, on the way to pull her darts out from the board. I have to look quickly at Sonny and the group of men behind them to see how she did as I had not been paying attention. I shrug with a little encouraging look, gathering she was in fact a bit rusty.

A while later into the game, someone walks up to me. I am reluctant to look away from Scully to see who it is. Oh, wonderful, that waitress from the diner. "Hi, I'm Shelly. You 'member me?" She is trying very hard to look attractive.

"Of course I do, with the coffee." I say, not enjoying the memory.

Shelly laughs loudly and puts her hand on my arm. Why do women always think I am flirting? I mean, I often am. But even when I'm not, they seem to think I am. "I forgot about that! I poured it right in your lap. How funny! Would you like to take me out on the dance floor?"

I glance at Scully now, with Shelly's hand still on my arm. Scully looks away, I just caught her watching us. She looks down quickly and picks up her beer, tilting her head back far to sip, she's nearly done with this one also. She glances at the dart board, then back at me, then away again when she notices I'm still looking at her. I'm trying to read her from all the way across the room.

"Well?" Shelly asks.

I look at her for a moment, then back to Scully, who I just caught staring at us again. She rolls her eyes and looks away when everyone starts saying it's her turn. She puts on a smile and looks at the scoreboard, giving Sonny a little high five for his last turn. Was she jealous? I feel my stomach flip flop and a tug on my heart at the thought before quickly extinguishing that. There's no way. "No, thank you. I'm just going to have another drink and watch Agent Scully play darts."

"Oh yeah, Agent Scully," at least Shelly doesn't seem too disappointed to be shot down. "Is she your girlfriend?"

I smirk, amused in the sense that I could in no way explain our relationship in terms this woman could understand. "No."

"Yeah, uh huh…" Shelly walks off with her hands on her hips, smacking her gum, looking for someone more interested.

I once again catch Scully looking at me. I hold her gaze as I walk up to her from across the room. It's as if we're playing a game of chicken, who will look away or blink first? I reach around on the table behind her. I have to feel for her beer bottle because I can't see it. My eyes hold hers as she keeps her feet planted, arms crossed, only her head moves back to keep me in focus because I am that close to her eyes. "Want another beer?" I grin and turn away quickly, not even chancing a glance at what her face might be giving away. Good or bad.

After taking a few moments at the bar, gathering myself after my realization and allowing myself to get so close to her, I return to her. I hand her her drink and sit down when I am offered a chair at that large table behind the game of darts. I take in the game, Sonny is ahead, but just barely. I hadn't realized Scully had been doing so well. I watch them wrap up the game, Sonny wins. Scully claps once and laughs when he does a little victory dance.

That's when someone in the group suggests dancing and they all head for the dance floor, trying to pull us along. We both decline and end up where we were, by her jacket again. "Not bad, G-woman."

She looks up at me, over her beer bottle, taking another sip. Her tongue darts out to lick the moisture off of her upper lip before she talks, and my eyes are drawn there momentarily. "Thank you," she says, not noticing my distraction. "It's really amazing what he can do. He said they bought him one of those really big…you know, gag pens that actually write? And that's what he's learned to write with. But it's really amazing that he can hold and throw darts like that." She's been using her hands as she talks about Sonny using his, and my eyes are moving back and forth from her hands to her face.

"He really likes you," is all I can think to say.

"Yeah, well, he's a good kid." She laughs when she looks over to the dance floor and sees Sonny entertaining the crowd. We turn and watch him in silence for a few minutes before I turn to Scully. "Be right back."

"Actually, yeah, I gotta go too. And then, uh, are you ready to go?"

I feel disappointment. "Are you?"

She looks like she saw it, but I can't read her face before she says, "No."

I suppress my smile as much as I can. I know it doesn't mean what my heart and tumbling stomach and other parts of me want it to mean, but I am happy nonetheless. "Good. I'm having a good time, Scully."

"Me too."

"You deserve it." She smirks and rests her hand on my arm briefly before walking past toward the bathroom. When we return, Scully asks if I'd like another one, saying she'll get this one. For a while I watch Sonny on the dance floor, someone is playing him a lot of Cher on the jukebox.

After a few minutes, after she has been gone awhile, I look towards the bar and see her talking to someone. Oh, J.J. With TWO Js. She is standing there with both of our beers in her hands, smiling a little but obviously trying to move away. She sees me looking at her, and does a double take. I'm actually trying to copycat her look from earlier, but with exaggerated squinting and such.

I actually look at my watch, looking like I'm waiting impatiently for my beer. I chuckle at her death stare before I walk up to her and take my beer from her before taking her hand. "Hey, J.J. right? Yeah, Fox Mulder." I hold up both of my full hands, raising up her hand in mine and my beer, implying I can't shake. Then I ask Scully, "Hey, didn't you promise me a dance?" J.J. looks at her.

"Uh…" She looks surprised for only half a moment, before recovering gracefully. "Yeah. Yes. Let's go."

We make our way about halfway to the dance floor before I drop her hand, leaning down to mumble in her ear, "Sorry, he spit on my egg."

She looks up at me, half confused, half amused. "Um…that's ok?"

"I know you don't need saving from a guy."

I expect a tough look from her, but she avoids my eyes and smirks. "No," she says before taking a sip of her beer. I am still trying to put the two things together, Scully and beer.

Sonny calls to us from the dance floor expectantly, pointing at the two of us, both of his mouths open wide in a smile. I smirk and motion to the dance floor with an extended arm to Scully. She looks up at me hesitantly a through before her lashes. "Come on, Scully. Since you have to cancel all your fun plans on account of me," I say, speaking of our conversation earlier today.

"Fine," she smiles and we set our drinks down in sight of the floor.

Sonny claps at us coming onto the floor, then the song changes. Someone is playing him Sonny & Cher now. 'The Beat Goes On.' Scully looks at Sonny, then at me. She's standing there awkwardly, people moving all around her. I look at Sonny. "I think we're going to have to loosen her up a bit, what do you think?"

Scully can't hear me, but she's looking at us like 'what did you just say?' Sonny is nodding and clapping. I casually walk to the edge of the dance floor and remove my blazer, carefully lying it over a bar stool. I'm nodding my head to the music a bit. I look at Scully as I loosen my tie more than it already was, moving a little more to the drums. Sonny is already into the song, pumping his fists to the beat.

Scully looks back and forth between the both of us, crossing one arm across her ribs and resting her other elbow on it. Her lips scrunching together under her hand, trying not to part her lips in a smile. I begin snapping a little, then start with a ridiculous dance toward her, in beat with the song.

She lowers her forehead to her fingers, then moves her fingers aside and looks up at me with her face still mostly facing down. Now it's all she can do to keep from laughing. Now Sonny and I are just dancing around her, hamming around trying to make her laugh. It doesn't take much, and come to find out, Scully can be quite giggly after three and a half beers. We're doing plenty to make her laugh more though. The song ends and Sonny and I shake hands, hugging briefly before he wanders off, saying something about water.

'I Got You Babe,' begins playing. I look at Scully, wondering if she will walk off the floor. But she only stands there, straightening out her hair with her fingers.

"Come here, Scully." I say to her over the music, holding out my hand to her in much the same way as before. Her mouth scrunches into another suppressed smile before taking my hand. I smile widely down at her, just holding her close for a moment, not believing I'm so lucky in this moment. After a moment though, when the first chorus has begun I begin really dancing with her. I spin her arround, dip her a few times. She is giggling nearly the whole time we move together, and I feel breathless. From the dancing, her, my feelings, everything. I pull her close, needing to catch my breath from spinning and dipping for nearly half of the song. I move my hand to her back, taking her right hand in my left. I move my mouth close to her, trying to sense if I am making her uncomfortable in any way. When she doesn't tense up and continues to move with me, even turning her face a little to listen to what I have to say, I half say, half sing the lyrics in her ear. "'Then put your little hand in mine,'" I give her hand a squeeze with mine. "'There ain't no hill or mountain we can't climb. Babe, I got you babe.'" She squeezes my hand back, panting against my neck.

'I am so in love with her,' I think again, not completely shocked by the thought this time. Of course I am. I run through the rest of the lyrics in my head quickly, deciding that most of them are accurate, on my end anyway, they are probably not appropriate to be singing to her in this moment. I don't chance another glance at her before I finish the song spinning her around a few more times.

She does end up with her chest against mine, when we are through though. Panting through those lips of hers, looking up at me. I look down at her and it feels like several minutes pass in just a few seconds before the music goes out.

It is then that we notice that pretty much everyone on this side of the bar is looking at us. We both look around, then I look down at Scully who now has a fierce blush on her cheeks. The next song begins and Scully sighs in exasperation. "God, who played this? I'll shoot them right here," she mumbles to me, deflecting.

I decide playing it off is the best option, maybe we won't put on a show for them this song. I just start to move with her slowly, relieved when she does the same. Eventually everyone gets bored and moves along. "Your gun is in your hotel room, Scully." My hand is resting just low enough on her back to know that she isn't carrying tonight. "Don't act all tough. People act tough, like they don't like this song. But everyone likes 'Purple Rain.'"

"I'll shoot you, again, Mulder." She's smiling. Good. I had been worried there for a minute.

"Just admit it, you like it. I will not believe that you don't like this song."

Her lips scrunch up into that face again, I've never really noticed this face before tonight. A tight lipped, mischievous suppression of a smile. "Where did you learn how to dance?"

"Ahh, I suppose I'll let you change the subject. I don't know. I just, watched people do it and I picked it up. I mean I've had a little practice through the years, but mostly I just watched and learned." I absentmindedly brush some hair off of her face, before returning my hand to her back, just a little lower. I feel the waist of her skirt under my pinky. We are still slowly moving together, along with several other pairs on the dance floor.

"Can I ask you something, Mulder?"

I have to look down at her when I hear the change in her tone. More serious. "Yeah?"

"When we were here, months ago, you mentioned to Sheina Berkowitz that you didn't know if you really believed in 'that stuff' anymore. And I've noticed, lately, you haven't been taking the same cases you used to. Are you ok? You aren't slowing down on my account, are you?"

"What? No. No…Scully…" I look down at her, wondering why she had to bring it up. I had completely forgotten about all of that in this moment. But I see genuine worry on her face, and I guess she thought now would be a good time to bring it up, both of us with our guards down. "I suppose I'm going through a midlife cris…" I wince at my choice of words, because they don't quite fit my age yet, yet they are a reminder of my age and how much I haven't accomplished by this time. "No…a crisis of faith." I nod, deciding that's better. "Since your illness…since your cancer." I sigh and hold her a little tighter, watching her face for any sign that she is uncomfortable. She steadily holds my gaze and even moves her hand further around my waist. I feel the smallest hint of a smile before I continue on. "I began to wonder if anything I do is worth anything. You said they gave it to you to make me believe. What kind of an person would I be if that didn't make me pause and look at the sacrifices being made? What if we hadn't found a cure? What if I'd lost you?" I curse the hitch in my voice, taking a ragged breath. I have to stop dancing and look down at her, moving that stubborn bit of hair off of her face again. I move my fingers to the back of her neck, my thumb stroking her cheek. The song ends and I am once again staring at her, thinking of how much I love her. I see the return of something in her eyes. How deep it runs, I do not know. Surely not as deep as it runs in me. How could I hope to be so lucky. But I know I see that she cares for me, I know by many of her actions up to now she cares deeply. "I don't want to talk about this tonight, Scully. Please?"

"Ok, Mulder…Ok." The music has picked up again, but we are still standing there as people are dancing quickly around us. I stare into her blue eyes, shining with a layer of unshed tears, still stroking her cheek. The thought of kissing her crashes through me, and I think I see her eyes react with a question before she turns quickly to a large hand on her shoulder. Sonny explains that his ride is ready to go, and that he is ready himself. We both bid him goodbye. Well, Scully mostly. I am still recovering from whatever that was that just happened. She looks over to where we put our drinks. "Looks like they got cleared away. Want to get another one?"

I look at her a moment, surprised that she still wants to stay. I figured we would be leaving too. I consider it, how difficult it is going to be. I want to hold her, and kiss her, and…I clear my throat. "I'm sure they would have been warm by now, anyway. Yes, I could have another one."

We decide to visit the restroom first, the beer going through both of us quickly now. I finish before she does. I get us two more drinks. The bartender makes small talk while he pops the tops and makes my change. "That little lady you're with is a keeper, son." I fix my gaze on him, trying to decide how to react to that.

"Yeah, well don't let her hear you say that. She'll have your balls." He laughs a big belly laugh, showing me how many teeth he's missing, giving my change. I drop a dollar in his jar, smirking back at him.

Scully walks up and takes her beer, "What's so funny?"

"Nothin," I grin at her before ushering her to a table.

We sit in silence a while, just people watching. People are becoming pretty drunk and pretty roudy. "This town…" It's more an exclamation than the beginning of a sentence.

"Yeah," I agree.

She gives Shelly, the waitress, a tight lipped smile as she walks by. "That woman thinks you're my boyfriend."

My eyes go wide, I was mid-sip. I just manage to swallow what I had in my mouth without choking, but do have to cough a bit. "Ahem…why do you say that, Scully?"

She bites her lip, I know she's kind of surprised she said it in the first place, but she's recovering nicely. "I saw her in the restroom. She's drunk. She talks too much. She's nosy." She shrugs.

"Yeah, well," I shrug myself. "The bartender thinks you're my girlfriend." I move to loosen my tie before I realize it's already pretty lose. She's glaring at the bartender now, wondering what he said about her, what we were laughing about. I smirk before rubbing her shoulders just briefly. "Relax, Scully. He's harmless."

She sighs and takes another slow sip of beer. "Sure he is."

'So in love…' I sigh and look at her a long moment while she watches the rest of the bar. "I know, we don't talk about this much, Scully, but how is dating for you? I mean, any prospects?" I know I'm pushing right up against one of our unspoken boundaries, but given my new realizations, I just really want to know. Right up until she shoots me a look colder than ice. "Yikes!" I can't help but laugh, then throw up a defensive hand when her look intensifies. "Ok, I'm waving the white flag. I give!"

She softens, but only a little. "What about you, Mulder?"

I laugh, "Are you kidding me? Talk about stuff I don't believe in anymore." I try to gauge her reaction, but she isn't looking at me and I can only see her stoic profile next to me. "I quit believing in that stuff a long time ago." I look down and mess with my tie a little, figuring that will be the end of it.

Until a few moments later, she looks at me. "That's sad."

"I suppose it could be considered that way."

"It is."

"Well…" I pause, making sure she really wants me to explain. I can see that her eyelids are getting a little heavy, but she has one eyebrow up in question. "I can't imagine I could ever find a woman who could keep up with me." She catches my eye for only a second before looking away. Is she blushing? "God, Scully, not like that." I can't help laughing, picking at the label on my beer bottle. "Damn it," I say through my laughter as she covers her mouth, trying not to do the same. "I mean, *mentally.* I can't imagine going home to someone who doesn't challenge or…stimulate me…God damn it." I'm trying to be serious, but that word makes me chuckle. "Ahem, stimulate me after spending the day with you. So, uh, the bar is set pretty high, there. Besides I'm lucky enough to have found one woman to put up with my bullshit."

She only looks at me a moment, and I can't read her eyes. She takes a deep breath before sitting up a little straighter, looking at me again. "Thank you…I think."

I give her my best attempt at a cocky grin, pretending just for a moment that I can flirt with her. "Yes, be flattered. Be very flattered, Scully."

She is unable to cover her mouth before she grins, leaning forward on the table. "I had fun tonight, Mulder." She looks over at me with her head propped up on her hand.

"Me too, surprisingly. Felt better than I have in a long time." 'Ever,' I think to myself. I'm looking in her eyes and can't resist moving my hand onto her back again between her shoulders. She closes her eyes, and I can no longer tell if she's comfortable. But if she's closing her eyes, she must be? I move my hand to her shoulder and squeeze once before letting go. "Ready to go?" I say, disappointed.

She opens her eyes again, and I feel her gaze in my heart. I realize then just how in trouble I am. How hard being around her will be. She nods and sits up straight again, smiling a little at me softly. "Yeah."

I go to get our jackets and we leave, each carrying our jacket. We walk most of the way in silence while I look up at the moon and a few constellations, able to see more here than at home. I can't even remember the last time I've actually looked up in wonder at the stars. I look down at her with her jacket hanging over her crossed arms, knowing she's the reason I'm looking up. "You never did admit that you like 'Purple Rain,' Scully." I say as we climb the stairs to the second floor.

"Mulder!" I caught her off guard and she laughs.

My face immediately reacts, going into a wide smile. "You have to admit it."

"No I don't."

"Yeah…come on." I walk past my room, blocking the door to her room. "Or you'll owe me another dance."

"Guess it's a dance, then. I will never admit to liking that song."

"All right…" I move away from her door and go to the railing behind her draping my jacket over it. Before giving myself too much time to think about it, I snatch her jacket out of her hands as she digs through it, looking for her key.

"Mulder! Wh-Now?" She laughs once again, "It's late…"

'I just wanted to hold you one more time,' I think. I want to say it, but don't dare. "It's never too late for one more dance." I'm holding her right hand again, my right hand pressed flat against her back, moving to silent music.

"Is that what Phoebe used to say?" My head snaps up to look down at Scully. I nearly cringe at the mention of Phoebe's name, especially from Scully's lips. I look at her in confusion for a moment before I remember she saw us dancing all those years ago. Scully winces, "Sorry…"

I smirk, shake my head and smooth her hair down, knowing she didn't mean any harm by it. "No, it's ok. I may have even kind of deserved that one." I hold her eyes for a minute before I start to move again. "Besides, the deceitful Miss Greene never got to see moves like these." I go to dip her down a little once more, but with Scully not expecting it, the alcohol and both of us being a little tired, she begins to stumble backward. She laughs, I move arm all the way around her to support her. She moves one arm quickly up around my neck and the other back behind her to grip the top of the railing. Luckily we were close enough to it to catch our fall. I'm laughing a little too by the time I think we have caught ourselves, but then I stumble forward another step into her. "Damn it," I laugh, gripping the railing with my left hand after letting go of her hand. Her back is up against the railing, both of our arms still holding each other and the railing.

"Moves like these, huh?"

"Shut up, Scully, I smile and before I know it my mouth is right over hers. I hesitate there, frozen. Alarms are going off in my head, and I'm asking myself just what in the hell I think I'm doing. Neither one of us move for what feels like an eternity, the skin under my nose and my upper lip pressed right up against the same area of her face.

I grip my hand tighter onto the railing, unintentionally forcing her body that much closer to mine. I should move away, I'm trying to move away with every ounce of determination I have. Which is none. I breathe in a ragged breath, trying to slow my breathing. What is she thinking? I can't see her eyes, and am unwilling and unable to pull back enough to see them. 'She hasn't pushed me away,' I think. I realize she isn't standing up now, or moving away. I feel like I am stuck in an internal debate for another eternity before I finally think, 'I am so in love with her.' I take one more ragged breath before I go for it. I squeeze my eyes closed tight and nudge her gently with my upper lip on hers. She complies and I close my lips on hers in a desperate closed mouth kiss. This curiosity has gotten the better of me. Her lips are warm on mine and that is enough for a long moment, both of us standing there breathing through our noses.

Then, her arm squeezes against my neck, whether from a cramp or pulling me closer I'm not sure. But still, I hold onto her tightly, loosening my death grip on the railing. Before standing up straighter I move my hand gently over her hair, hoping she won't pull away as we stand. She doesn't. She doesn't remove her arm from around my neck either, so as I stand, she is still holding me tightly.

I hold back just as long as I can, until I just can't anymore. I unwrap my arm from around her and move it to her waist, turning her back toward the brick wall next to her room. She is the last room on the end of the balcony. She takes a few steps back, and as soon as I feel her make contact with the wall, I part my lips against hers, tiling my head down I take her bottom lip between mine, sucking so softly. I feel my heart pounding in my head as my fingers move into her hair, holding her head back. I suck a little more of her bottom lip into my mouth and hear a whimper deep in her throat when my tongue flicks over it as I suck.

Things seem to escalate pretty quickly, before I know it I am kissing her so hard that I am moaning right into her mouth. Kissing her so hard and so long that I can't even breathe. I need to catch my breath. I move my mouth to her neck, nudging her head aside. As she tilts her head, she stands up on her toes and her belly presses right up against me. The fingers of both of my hands grip her tighter, on her waist and in her hair as she makes contact with the growing erection between us. She sucks a breath in through her teeth and says my name with a throaty whisper. I freeze, as if I have just snapped out of it. Her too.

I stand there with my nose on her neck, panting into it. Still pressed up against her. "Scully…" I mumble, afraid to pull away. "This isn't right…" I shake my head, mumbling into her skin. "I mean, tonight. Here. Not right." No matter what I say, this isn't going to be right.

"Mulder…" she says again, sounding more like day to day Scully. She clears her throat, finally pushing a hand into my shoulder. I move my hands to both sides of her head on the wall, shivering at the difference in temperature from her to the cool bricks. When I finally chance a glance at her, all I want to do is kiss her again, with her swollen wet lips and the skin around them red from my stubble. So I can't look at her. She ducks out from between my arms and moves to her door. I see her tense when she tries the knob. I sigh and hand her her jacket off of the railing. "Good night, Mulder." She digs out her key and is gone before I can even put two more thoughts together.

* * *

I don't want to hear it! If CC can cliffhanger it like he did, I should be able to pull this shit off! :-D

To Be Continued…


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: They are legally in the hands of Ten Thirteen. And they're doing a pretty good job with them. I wish I could thank all of them for the wonderful 6 episodes we just got. And let them know just how greedily we are waiting for more. As if they don't know.

Rating: This is like a PG-13ish. Look into my Crystal Ball and…ooh, I see two FBI agents and ahem! Hoo boy! They are not doing very PG-13ish things. Madame Sarah is never wrong. Smut is coming.

Spoilers: Post-Post Modern Prometheus. Cancer arc references.

Author's Notes: So, when I had this story in my head before I started writing, they were going to bang in the hotel the next morning. Well, M&S said, "No, that's not how we roll," when it came down to it. Got a little busy and also didn't want any more cliffhangers when I wasn't sure if/when I would finish…So I waited until I had it all down. Here's 3 chapters to wrap it up. This is where they went.

Thanks to each of my friends that are reading this. You each know what for, I hope. Or I suck at friend-ing.

Thank you to WildwingSuz for ever so gently suggesting I use a beta and then volunteering her services. If you haven't read her stuff, move out from under that rock and check it out. (After you finish this one, I hope.)

Feedback? GET IN MY BELLY!

* * *

I chance a glance at Scully from my desk. She is deep in concentration, writing down notes after looking at the photo in her hands. She presses rewind and then play on her tape recorder for the third time now. I can faintly hear her on the tape from across the office, giving her oral notes during some autopsy she performed. She listens intently and then scribbles something else down, preparing to type up her report for the case that she had been pulled to work on for the last two days.

We flew back home on Saturday morning. We had said almost nothing to each other that 'morning after.' In fact, the only time I remember speaking to her was about borrowing her toothpaste once more. I don't know how she sat there calmly on the flight home, reading the latest Jose Chung novel that I had playfully criticized her for reading on the flight out.

I had been tense as hell, the smell of her next to me seemed more noticeable than it ever had. The scent of her perfume was everywhere, clinging to the skin of my face even after a shower and a shave. I had gotten myself off that night, come so hard I was seeing stars in the hotel shower after kissing her.

Fortunately, it would be a short flight, but after 45 minutes I couldn't take it anymore. I had a problem developing in my lap. I had to get away from her for a while, escape to the lavatory to keep my sanity. Not only to prevent my embarrassment, but also hers. If the thought of Scully seeing that was uncomfortable to me, it would surely mortify her. She prided herself in not being the kind of woman whose first goal in life was to draw the attention of men. Fortunately I was able to calm down enough that I didn't have to become a member of the mile high club to myself.

We hadn't spoken all day Sunday. Monday morning, before I could even find the words to tell her that we needed to talk, Skinner had called us to his office. He gave us different case files, asking if I could handle my assigned case without Scully. He needed her on something local. I had been trying to concentrate on the file before me when Scully jumped in, all but answering for me. I know her well enough to know she had been exaggerating her enthusiasm to consult on the case in front of her. She wanted to get away from me.

I had flown out Monday night and discovered it was a waste of my time by Tuesday afternoon. I had set local law enforcement on the right track and been home by Wednesday night. By lunch time Thursday I had completed and submitted my report. I ate lunch, and really tried to eat. I hadn't had a full meal since before I kissed her. Today, it turned out, would be no different. I had just sat down at my desk, trying to figure out what I would do with the rest of my day, when I heard the familiar click of her heels in the hallway. I fumbled for something to look deeply interested in before she had walked in and gone to her area with a curt greeting.

Now, here I sat half an hour later, watching her work. She flips the tape in her recorder and jots something else down after listening for a few moments. There she sits, concentrating on her work, while I ponder heavily on the color of her nipples. I realize I have another big problem coming on and nearly break the keyboard, hitting the key combination to log off of my computer.

She looks at me with a start and I avoid her gaze. I carry my jacket in such a way to block the view of my problem from her on the way out the door. I wasn't going to take care of that at work, but I need to take a walk. I leave without a word.

After walking aimlessly down the street for four blocks I am finally able to think straight again. After a few more blocks I begin to realize I'm just going to have to confront her. Tell her it meant nothing and we'll forget it. We can't go on like this. And she obviously doesn't want it to happen again. She doesn't even want to be around me right now. I cross the street to grab us some coffee, her favorite dark roast in the whole city. 'These are the things you get to know,' I think. 'The color of her nipples will have to remain a mystery.'

When I return to the office, she is gone. I put our coffee down and pull out my cell phone to call her. I know by now that if she doesn't pick up by the second ring, I am going to get her voice mail. However, I'm surprised when she picks up on the fourth ring, meaning she almost didn't take my call.

"Where are you? Where did you go?" I ask.

"I…I left for the day. I'm going to finish this report from home."

After a long pause, I say, "We need to talk, Scully." She sighs and says my name, hesitation dripping from her voice. I wait for her to continue but when all I hear is silence, I become angry. The frustration, worry and anxiety of the last week seem to hit me all at once. Does she really think this is something we can just brush under the rug? That is just so like her! "We can't work like this!" I realize all at once what is happening. This could ruin us. "Why don't you just get it over with, Scully? Just say it now!"

"'It,' Mulder? What 'it?'"

I don't even know what 'it.' 'It's over?' 'Let's just forget it ever happened?' I don't know. I open my mouth about three times, but words have escaped me. I jam down repeatedly on the end button. When that doesn't give me the satisfaction of hanging up on her, I slam the phone down on the desk twice. Still seeing red, I chunk it across the office and think I hear the plastic crack when it slams into the wall. Another one bites the dust.

I got caught up in the moment, kissed her, and may have ruined our partnership. Of all the ways I dreaded our partnership ending, this one had never crossed my mind. Yes, I had considered that one day she would tire of the X-Files and leave me for a better career path, a better life. Never had I ever considered I would be the one to ruin things, not like this.

She's been through hell with me. Abducted, tested on, lost her sister, been diagnosed with and overcome a life threatening illness. Lost any hope of children in her future. I had finally had that conversation with her months ago. She hadn't taken it well, the reasons why they had brutally and senselessly taken away that all-important purpose in life. But we had made it through.

I had arrogantly begun to believe the two of us could make it through anything. I took it for granted that she would always be there, then I fucked up. I fucked up good. A perfect partner, friend, companion, gone because I had been too weak and too curious to keep my feelings and my lips to myself.

An hour later, I am on my couch. My head is pounding, I've got my arm thrown over my eyes, trying to block out the sunlight. I groan when I hear her knock on the door. When I don't answer I hear her use her key. I don't say anything as she makes her way inside.

"Mulder, what's wrong?" I hear concern in her voice, and I don't even have the energy to be angry with her anymore.

"I haven't been eating well. What are you doing here?"

"I tried to call you back. Did you turn your phone off on me?"

"Something like that."

"Mulder…"

"WHAT?…Scully?" I rub my eyes hard and squeeze the bridge of my nose before I force myself to look at her. "What?"

"You were right, we need to talk."

I sigh and rub my face with both hands. I move to sit up with effort before I motion for her to sit on the other end of my couch. "Have a seat," I mumble.

She slowly moves to the couch, then sits on the very edge of the other end. She looks straight ahead for a moment before looking at me, in pretty much the same position. "Talk to me, Mulder."

I am leaning forward with my elbows on my knees. I move my hands to the back of my neck as I lean forward, trying to stop the room from spinning. "And say what? What do you want to hear? Do you want an explanation as to why I did what I did? I'd just had the best night of my life, with the woman I…with someone very special to me, and I…I screwed up? I may have ruined everything? I may have fucked up and lost the one good thing I have going for me?"

"The best night of your life?"

I shake my head, squeezing my hands against the pain in my neck. "I know that must sound incredibly pathetic, but yes. You were alive, and you were happy. You were with me. You, the one thing I am sure of anymore. When everyone and everything else fails me, there you are. You. Do you know the first time I lost you, during your abduction, that was the darkest time in my life? Darker than anytime before I'd met you, even?"

"No, I didn't know that."

I've lifted my head, my neck couldn't take the strain anymore. I'm resting my forehead down on my open hands. I'm not looking at her, and my hands are probably blocking her view of my face. "Well, it was. Then you got sick, and I was losing you again. Only more slowly, right in front of my eyes. You were so strong." I swallow, then clear my throat, trying not to let my voice break. "Strong enough for the both of us. Even at your weakest moment, you were my strength. You were willing to take the blame for a death you had no hand in, from what may well have been your death bed." My voice does crack now. I take a deep breath, if I'm going to go down, I may as well go down in flames. "And though it had probably been happening for a while, I think that must be when I really fell for you. It only occurred to me recently, but it has been there for a long time. Anyway, I had just realized it that day and I…I flew too close to the sun, and I'm sorry. I don't know what else to say."

I hear her take a deep breath in, then out of her nose. "First of all, had you just asked me, Mulder, I would have told you that this could have never come between us. I'm still your partner, and I'm not going anywhere. After everything we've been through, I thought you knew that. Let me remind you, you've done a lot worse than that kiss. Ok?"

I feel the smallest bit of relief, but don't dare relax. "Scully..."

"Second," she continues, "it's not all on you, Mulder. I had every opportunity to stop you. It was a…a very good night for me, also. I saw a completely different side of you that I didn't know existed and I was just as caught up in the moment as you were."

I take a deep breath and exhale before looking at her, resting my cheek on my folded hands. "Do you regret it?"

I see her avert her eyes for just a moment, then will herself to look back at me, right in the eyes. "No."

I feel myself shudder as I let out another breath, feeling nothing more than pure relief in this moment. I close my eyes, feeling most of the tension leaving my body. "So we're ok?"

As my eyes are closed, I feel rather than see her move just close enough on the couch to reach out and take my hand. She rests our hands on the couch between us, squeezing tightly. "Of course we are. Mulder, I don't know what you were so worried about."

I look at her once more and feel the edges of my lips twitch up in my relief. I try not to, but chuckle once or twice, caught up in the moment. "You don't?"

She smirks and turns her head down. Her hair falls to block her eyes from my view. "I thought you regretted it. The next day."

"Are you kidding me, Scully? Yes, I would have regretted it every day for the rest of my life if I'd lost you but other than that, no. I don't regret it at all." I withdraw my hand from hers and tuck that hair behind her ear. She's not looking at me, but at least I can see her eyes now. My fingers linger for just a moment behind her ear before I indulge myself in one stroke of her cheek. I sit back and rub my face, sighing into my hands. "God, I feel so much better."

"Good." She stands and straightens her jacket, turning to go. "I'll see you at work, tomorrow."

I watch her go for a moment before I ask, "What are you doing tomorrow night?"

"Um…Nothing. Nothing at all." She turns around, talking to me from the entryway.

"Let me take you somewhere?"

"Mulder, you're always taking me somewhere. And you never ask." She's being smart, now.

"There's a first time for everything."

"There certainly is. Are you asking me on a date?"

"Ah, come on Scully. Why do people have to put a label on everything? Can't we just *go out?*" I don't really have a problem with labeling it a date, but I'm giving myself an out in case it makes her uncomfortable. I stretch back out on my couch again, resting my head on my hands, trying to look casual.

"Hm…ok. But you're the one who said you fell for me."

She walks out the door before I have a chance to reply. After a moment, I decide that that's a good sign, that she's even acknowledging that I said that, and I relax back on the couch with a smile. Before I know it, I'm on my feet, going for the door. I poke my head out in the hallway and see her standing there, looking up to see where the elevator is. "Is that a yes?"

She turns around with that look on her face that I kept seeing that night we danced, holding back her smile. "Yes, Mulder." I stand there in my doorway, smiling at her until she gets on the elevator.

The next morning, I try to bring her the good coffee, again. She is not there, *again.* I find a note that Skinner has called us to his office, *AGAIN.* I leave the coffee, moping to the elevator. We probably have another assignment if he is calling us into his office on a Friday. Damn it. This might be the first time in the history of my life that I'm disappointed about someone ruining my Friday. Wow.

When I arrive in Skinner's outer office, I slump down onto the couch next to Scully, nodding to Skinner's secretary that she can let him know we've both arrived. I fold my arms and look straight ahead, mumbling to Scully. "I brought you coffee."

She smirks at my deflated attitude, sitting there all prim and proper as she usually is anywhere above our basement office.

* * *

To Be Continued...


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: They are legally in the hands of Ten Thirteen. And they're doing a pretty good job with them. I wish I could thank all of them for the wonderful 6 episodes we just got. And let them know just how greedily we are waiting for more. As if they don't know.

Rating: This is like a PG-13ish. Look into my Crystal Ball and…ooh, I see two FBI agents and ahem! Hoo boy! They are not doing very PG-13ish things. Madame Sarah is never wrong. Smut is coming.

Spoilers: Post-Post Modern Prometheus. Cancer arc references.

Author's Notes: Thank you to WildwingSuz for ever so gently suggesting I use a beta and then volunteering her services. If you haven't read her stuff, move out from under that rock and check it out. (After you finish this one, I hope.)

Feedback? GET IN MY BELLY!

* * *

The local law enforcement that I had helped out the week before called to request my assistance again. Skinner had "requested" for us to go help, if I had no other leads. Scully and I have just had a full day on the case. She took a look at all of the previous victims, and I took a fresh look at the dump site. I walked along the bank of the river, flicking shells into the running water as I looked around once again. I had stopped in my tracks when I saw a tattered length of rope sticking out from under some leaves. It didn't look like it had been out in the elements that long, and I thought maybe someone had snapped the rope trying to pull a boat up onto shore. For the first time I had considered the suspect might have been coming from the water to dump his victims.

Both of us done for the day, I pick Scully up from the morgue. "Find anything?"

"Nothing more than the ME. Prostitute stranglings. This case is pretty cut and dry. What are we even doing out here, Mulder?"

"I'm not sure myself. I gather that Skinner has some ties with the Chief." I shrug and tell her what I'd found. "Are you ready to call it a day, are you hungry yet?"

"What are you thinking?" She knows me well enough to know I've got an itch to investigate my theory.

"Well, it can wait 'til morning if you're tired." I know her well enough to know she's ready for whatever plans I might have.

"Mulder."

I chuckle. "I want to walk up the river bank and look at boats."

"How romantic." She smiles at me, her eyes lighting up with her joke.

"Ah, well, I gotta get that date in one way or another." I am smiling back at her, all at once dying to kiss her again. I get an image of pushing her back against the door, my hand running up the pants on her thigh, up under that jacket and…

"Let's go, Mulder." She licks her lips, taking a slow, deep breath. I think I know her well enough to know what she was just thinking. And I think it's what I hope she was thinking.

A half hour later we are at the dump site. She asks me which way we're going. I go with my gut, and logic, thinking that if I had a body in my boat I would want to go the easier route downstream to dump it. "Let's walk upstream." I point in that direction. Without us even discussing it, she walks far up the bank, looking up at the houses and for any sign in the woods. I walk along the shore, looking at the boats tied up or pulled up on land.

The closest trees are maybe twelve feet from the shore, and the trees are several feet apart in most places. She is walking just far enough away from me that we have to raise our voices to talk to one another. The slope is somewhat sharp between Scully and I, but easy enough to climb while walking. Past where she is, it is a very gradual slope up to the houses, maybe 75 yards up the shore.

It starts to get dark pretty quickly and we pull out our flashlights. I can see the beam of her light, but barely make her out. "How you doing Scully, want to call it a night?"

"Not yet, I'm having a wonderful time." I hear, rather than see the smirk in her voice.

"Let me know if you start having too much fun," I say as I start up with the sunflower seeds again. We walk another ten minutes before I come across a boat that has a frayed rope attached to a handle, and a newer rope securing the boat to a post on the shore. The frayed rope is similar to the other end that I found earlier.

"Scully? Scully, come look at this." I say over my shoulder. When she doesn't answer and I don't hear the rustle of her footsteps in the leaves I say her name again, looking over my shoulder. "Scully…Scully!" My skin tingles when I can't see the beam of her flashlight anywhere.

"Mulder!" I hear the alarm in her voice and draw my gun as I am running, flicking off the safety, my index finger poised and ready to move to the trigger. I am sweeping the trees with my gun and flashlight.

"Scully!" I get a chill up my back when I do a double take with the beam of my flashlight on a lifeless form on the ground before I realize the clothes and hair color are wrong. Then I hear a noise a little to the left and lower, just as I see the tiny bit of light from her flashlight in a pile of leaves. I sweep my flashlight down and see a large figure in black over Scully with a hand on her neck, his other holding her hands above her head. "FBI! Get off of her!" I fire a warning shot in the air as I run to them, training my gun on him again. He doesn't stop, though, and I can't get a clean shot at this distance, she is struggling and writhing under him so much.

Just as I get close enough and am about to give him one last order to get off of her before I make him, she manages to get one hand free and scratch the hell out of his face. Before I know it she somehow has him on his stomach. She's straddling one of his legs with a hold on one of his wrists and she's got his arm twisted, pushing it high up on his back until he's screaming in pain. She's also drawn her gun and has it pressed up against his head.

She suddenly becomes aware of me, that I'm shining the light on them with my gun also aimed at her attacker's head. She looks into my eyes and I hope she doesn't see JUST how hot I think that was, it's not every day I get to see her kick ass. I'm also just very relieved she's okay. He had her down good for a moment and that is the part of the job I wish she never had to go through. But her lips twitch up for just a moment before her eyes turn to anger again, pushing up on the man's arm, causing him to yell once more. "Son of a bitch came at me from behind that tree. I guess he was carrying her to his boat," her head motions to the body I had seen a minute ago. I check it out. Another prostitute by the looks of it. I feel for a pulse and find none, so I back away.

"Yeah, I found the boat. Here, I got him." I aim my gun at his head again as I hand her my handcuffs. She holsters her gun and gets him in cuffs, reading him his rights. We all walk the distance to the car, Scully and I both with guns drawn. After he is in the backseat I slam the door, turning to her. She's already called the cavalry, and now we wait.

I push some of her hair down into place, then duck to check out her face. She has a few scratches her cheeks, already scabbed, and a puffy bottom lip. I think he slapped her. My hand moves down and lingers in front of her face, wanting to touch it. "You ok?"

"Yeah," she pushes me away, squeezing my hand briefly, telling me in our language that she's fine and doesn't want me hovering over her like this.

I nod and holster my gun, still checking her out but keeping my hands to myself as she straightens her hair and clothes. "Sorry I didn't make it sooner."

"I think he was just waiting for us to pass until you stopped to check out his boat and called to me. I didn't see him and…" she lets out a deep breath. "I'm fine. He just startled me."

I smirk, "'Startled?' I'll try to remember never to sneak up on you again. The part where you were in danger aside, you kicking his ass wasn't a bad thing to see." Shut up, you idiot.

She crosses her arms, seeming a little uncomfortable, but she looks up at me through her lashes in a way that let's me know my attention wasn't completely unwelcome. Both of us look away before she moves around to rest on the hood of the car, holding the middle of her back on her left side as she does.

"I think I pulled a muscle." She sneers over her shoulder, giving her attacker a look I never want to be on the receiving end of through the windshield.

xxxxx

Hours later we are in my hotel room. I am leaning back against the pillows, eating pizza. She is sitting at the table, picking at her second slice. "This is terrible."

I shrug, "It's not bad, not the worst we've had."

"True," she mumbles. She gets up and chunks the rest of her slice and I feel disappointment when I think she is about to leave. "Do you have any Advil?"

I smile when I realize she isn't leaving just yet, even if it's for just another minute with her. "Yeah, in my toiletry bag I think."

She crosses over to my bathroom area, I hear her digging through my bag while I eat the last slice of pizza. "I'm not getting any younger," she says, holding her back as she crosses the room to take a sip of her water and swallow the pills. "Fighting off attackers, human or otherwise, doesn't get any easier."

"If you want a back rub, Scully, all you gotta do is ask."

Her eyes go wide above her water glass, but she manages to swallow without choking. She smirks, "Mulder…"

"Sorry," I smile back, sitting up a little straighter on the bed. It's the same innuendo that I always spout out, but things have changed.

She stands there with a hand on her back, the look on her face after said innuendo is different than it would be in the past. She doesn't so easily deflect it with an eye roll or a stoic face. "It's…it's ok."

I shrug, going for broke. "Come here." I wipe my fingers off with a napkin and motion to the bed in front of me.

"Mulder…" she says again reluctantly.

I shrug and pat the bed, "Come. Here." I try putting on a little charm without cranking it all the way up to 11. You don't want to move too fast or the skittish Scully will become frightened and run.

To my surprise, she actually does move to the bed and sit down in front of me. There I sit, with my left leg folded in front of me on the bed and my right foot on the floor. Scully sits maybe a foot in front of my leg, looking at me over her right shoulder. I take a deep breath and smile at her a moment before putting my right hand up to her chin, urging her to face forward. My thumb rests on the back of her neck while doing so. Why is my heart beating so fast already? I rest my other hand on her left arm, trying to calm down before she feels me shaking or something. My thumb moves through her hair before coming to rest on the back of her neck. I move my finger over the scar there curiously before I realize what I feel.

She sighs and tilts her head forward, her chin lowering to her chest. I brush her hair aside so I can see, brushing my thumb over the scar once more. The implant, my leading theory on the cause for the remission of her cancer. I'm not sure what Scully believes, but I do believe she doesn't dare risk removing it again. Reminded of her cancer, I am reminded once more how grateful I am to have her with me.

I curl my fingers around the front of her neck, gently pulling her back towards me, giving her every moment to stop me. She rests her hand on my right thigh as she leans back far enough for me to gently move my nose, then my lips over the scar.

"You call this a massage?" The smartass is strong with this one.

I smile against her neck. I curl my fingers and brush the backs of them on the side of her face, up by her ear. "I'm sorry, am I bothering you?" I ask, not really meaning the question. Her shiver gives her away. I move my nose to the crook of her neck, copping a smell. Wearing the same clothes she's worn from this morning, having been either in a police station, a morgue or on a riverbank, she still smells pretty nice.

Her fingers tighten their grip on my thigh and my heart is pounding again. "Mulder…" Her voice is low, is she enjoying this? She moves her neck away from me without leaning forward, silently telling me to cut that out.

I move my face away from her neck, smiling as I apologize. I rest my right hand on her shoulder and urge her to lean forward again, moving my left hand to rest flat on the side of her back she's been holding. "Where is it?" I slowly begin moving my hand down lower on her back. My thumb is moving back and forth down the large muscle there, seeking for where she is hurting.

Eventually she winces and arches her back, involuntarily moving away from my hand. "Right there."

"Can I…?" I tentatively move my hand to her waist where her shirt has just begun to come untucked from her pants. I pull it out enough to move my hand up under her shirt, placing my hand flat over the skin of her lower back. I am watching her body language closely, gauging her reaction to every move of my hand as I slide it up her back to return to the area that's bothering her.

She leans forward, arching her back but not moving away from my touch. She's actually pressing back into my hand a little. I begin moving my thumb over her injured area gently, testing how much she can take. She tenses up a bit and I can hear her wince as she pulls away. "Ouch."

"Too much?"

"No, I'm fine, it's good." She presses back into my hand again.

My heart is pounding faster still as I listen to her breathing, feel her soft skin under my hand. My thumb strokes the sore muscle once again, my fingers wrapping nearly all the way to the front of her ribcage. Still watching her body language, I slowly move my right hand from her shoulder, flat on her back, down her shirt to her middle. I brush my fingers under the edge of her shirt at her waist, testing the waters. For the sake of massaging her sore muscle, this hand is not necessary, and she could stop me.

Then I feel her heart pounding against her rib cage. I bite my lip and stop the massage just to feel her heartbeat with my fingers. My right hand moves to rest on her waist, above her hip. My eyes fall closed and I'm clenching my jaw, trying to calm myself. Nope, not working. Yep, I'm getting more turned on by the second.

She turns her head more toward me, but doesn't move away, doesn't ask why I've stopped, nothing. I lick my lips and open my eyes, looking down at her raised shirt. Both of my hands tighten on her skin when I see her tattoo there. I had seen pictures of it, in the police report and X-File, knew it was there, but had never seen it with my own eyes. In proportion to the rest of her body. I remember the dark days before she got the thing, but I don't dwell on them too much. We made it through that, as we've made it through everything else.

Damn, it's red. I can't help it, my right hand pulls away from her waist and touches her tattoo. She sits up a bit, her ribs pushing into my left hand, arching her back. I can hear her breathing through her nose now. She may not want this now, here, but she wants it. I move my left leg to the other side of her and scoot closer to her, my nose going to her neck. I'm going to go until she stops me.

She's breathing harder now, her head tilts just a little for me. "Mulder…"

"Yeah," I brush my lips down her neck, my fingers squeezing her waist.

She's reacting to every little puff of breath out of my nose on her neck. "Mulder…"

She raises her shoulders, arching her back yet again. Pressing her skin against my lips. "Hmm?" I finally taste her, my tongue pressing against her neck. I even dare to suck for a moment.

"Oh, God, Mulder. No." I freeze at the word, my eyes opening. "Not here."

"I know," I've closed my mouth, but I can't stop moving my lips all over her neck. "Stop saying my name like that, then." I'm only half joking. Less than half. I move my nose up behind her ear, smelling her hair.

"Mul-" She catches herself when my fingers grip her waist tighter. She takes a deep breath and pushes herself away from me on the bed. "Sorry."

I close my eyes, squeezing my hands into fists where they were resting against her. I will myself to give her an understanding look. I do understand, I do. But Goddamn it's hard, um, it sucks…Shit. "I get it," I say through clenched teeth, forcing myself to look at her.

She's standing at the foot of the bed with a hand on her back, just now forcing herself to look at me apparently. She turns away quickly when she sees the state I'm in. "I gotta go."

"Yeah," I say. "See you…in the morning…for the uh…" Words, man! "for the autopsy." Was that a full sentence?

"Good night, Mulder" she slides on her shoes and walks out, the door closing automatically behind her.

Holy shit. I lean back against the headboard for a minute, then I have to get up and walk around. I pace the length of the room a couple of times until I can finally see straight again. How does she do that? We hadn't even kissed yet. I feel very disappointed about that. That's when I see her jacket laying over the back of a chair by the door. I pick it up and walk out, not sure what I even plan on doing. I know I could give it to her tomorrow, but I just want to see her one more time.

I am surprised to see her standing in the hallway two doors down, her room was 4 down from mine, as close as we could get this time. "Scully," I say with a smile. She had been standing there with her arms raised from her sides, clenching and unclenching her fingers. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," she turns to me, unable to meet my eyes.

"Looks to me like you were trying to talk yourself out of something. Or, into something?" I say, unable to resist picking on her a little. I hold out her jacket. "I just wanted to give you this."

She shakes her head and looks at me through her lashes, her cheeks are pink. "Thank you," she says and reaches out her hand to take it.

I take her hand and pull her right up against me. I pause for a moment, as always, giving her the opportunity to move away. Only just a moment. I press my lips to hers, being mindful of her swollen bottom lip. I don't risk touching her too much, I only squeeze her hand before I back away and smile down at her. "Good night, Scully," I say.

She looks relieved she didn't have to 'stop' me again. "Good night…again." She squeezes my hand before taking her jacket walking to her room

xxxxx

When we land back in D.C. we remain in our seats, waiting for the plane to empty out. We are three quarters of the way back. Scully hates slowly herding down the aisle with the rest of the passengers to get off of the plane.

"How's your back?" I ask her for I think about the third time today, with the smallest hint of a leer.

She smirks and undoes her seatbelt, squeezing past me to stand in the aisle and stretch. "Just fine, Mulder. Thank you." She puts her hand over that spot while bending and stretching her back in the aisle with a wince on her face.

I watch her movements, at her hand resting on her back. At the soft curve of her upper back down to concave of he lower back. I was feeling her soft skin there with my fingers just last night. "Maybe another massage would help. Your place or mine?"

She snaps her head to look at me with her mouth slightly open and an almost inaudible sound of indignation. I give her my best helpless look when I see only the smallest hint of a smile on the corners of her lips that years of watching her helped me observe. "They're almost out, let's go."

xxxxx

It's Friday. The last few days have been routine days at the office, for the most part. We submitted reports on the murderer and did some catching up, preparing our travel expenses to be submitted. Well, she did, while I feigned other busy work. I also watched her. Sometimes obviously, so she'd catch me watching her. Other times, more casually, like over the top of my computer monitor.

This happens to be one of the more obvious times, turning the pages of a tabloid too quickly to be really looking at it. "Do you need something to do?" She looks at me through her glasses, trying very hard to hide her amusement, I think.

"No, I'm pretty swamped over here." I lift up my tabloid to show her the cover featuring the Alabama Swamp Thing sightings.

"Mulder," she takes off her glasses and uncrosses then re-crosses her legs the other way, her hand covering her mouth for a moment until she can wipe the smile away. "Find something to work on."

"I AM working. Maybe I want to check this thing out." I open the tabloid to show her another picture as evidence of the 'sightings.'

"No, Mulder. I have plans tomorrow." She puts on her glasses to return to what she's doing. "Early."

"You do? You didn't tell me that." I can practically see my plans for asking her out tonight slithering out the door. Again.

Is she smiling? Is she amused? "You didn't ask."

"Maybe I was going to." I even pout a little. If she's amused, sure I'll amp it up. "How early?" Maybe I can still get dinner.

She takes off her glasses again and looks directly at me. She doesn't say a word, and I stare back at her. After a long few moments, I see the slightest movement of her jaw, the slightest lick of her lips, and possibly even the smallest hint of a fire in her eyes. Maybe it was my imagination. She once again puts on her glasses and turns to her work. "Early enough." She says.

"What are you doing?"

She rolls her eyes, "A baby shower."

"Damn it." I say in a 'sucks to be you kind of way.

"I know." She clears her throat and leans back over her work.

Hours later, now home, I fall back on my couch. I had dropped my blazer somewhere between here and the door. I lift my tie and look at the design. I remember wondering this morning, when I put it on if Scully likes this tie. Scully...I sigh. I had planned on and assumed that I would be spending time with her tonight. It occurs to me, and not for the first time in these last weeks, how crazy this is. Sometimes I wonder if she is on the same page. I feel crazy about her, and all of these unusual "encounters" with her are beginning to permeate more and more of my thoughts. Somewhere in the mind, I am sure that someday, my thoughts will return to "work." Some swamp monster or UFO sighting actually WILL catch my attention. The drive to search for Samantha will return like winter is bound to return every year. These last weeks have been a sort of reprieve. And for the first time in my life I have let myself be really distracted by something, someone.

Scully...Does she know all of this? Do I cross her mind as much as she does mine? What is REALLY going on here? What is going on in that head of hers? When I am with her, I feel the pull, I want to be near her. Want to touch her, and it feels as if that's how it should be. I don't think about much else. When I am alone, I think of all the reasons why she shouldn't give even more of herself to me. Maybe she does, too.

As well as I know her, I don't really know her that well all. I want to, really want to. I want to spend Sunday mornings in bed with her, talking and...

God damn it. I run both hands up my face, hard over the short whiskers before pushing my palms into my eyes.

I pull my cell phone from my pocket. I'm such a self-centered ass sometimes. She answers quickly.

"Mulder..." In her voice are both a plea and a warning. "My mother will not send me home with a pie for you this Christmas if you have other plans for me tomorrow."

"That's no joking matter, Scully."

"What's wrong? Are you ok?"

I had tried to deadpan, and failed of course. "I was just thinking…" I pause, but only hear quiet silence from her end. "I mean, I was wondering…"

"Yes, I'll go to the prom with you?" She laughs quietly.

I smirk, "Scully, I'm just trying to make sure you're ok…going to a baby shower tomorrow."

"Oh, Mulder…" I can practically hear her stop what she's doing and sit down.

"I'm sorry."

"No, I uh…" she sighs. "I appreciate your concern, but I'm okay."

"Scully…" I say as she takes a deep breath, strengthening herself with it.

"Really, Mulder…" The edge in her voice is asking me to let it go.

"But if you're not ok, I'm he-"

She cuts me off "I know. Thank you."

I acknowledge her thanks with a hum, and then there is silence. Not necessarily uncomfortable. On my end anyway. I don't register tension in her breathing from her end. Finally, I say, "Sorry I didn't ask sooner, I was just…" How do I end that sentence? 'Too disappointed I couldn't ask you out tonight?' 'too bummed to miss another chance to possibly make out, if you haven't realized how absolutely insane this is, yet?'

"What are you doing tomorrow?"

I give her a disappointed grunt. "Maybe I will go hunting for that swamp monster."

"Oh?"

I sigh. "No…I don't know."

"I should be home by five."

"What are you implying?" I wonder if my smile sounds as big as it probably looks.

"Your place or mine?"

"Scully…?" Amusement, arousal, admiration. Yes, all of the above.

"Pick me up at six."

I bite my lip, trying to remain calm, cool and collected. "What are we doing here, Scully? I mean…" All of the questions and doubts that I worry she has, all of the reasons this should not happen, they all cross my mind. But God damn, how I want her. "Are you sure?" That's all I can manage to ask.

"Pick me up at six." She hangs up before I can ask her anything else.

* * *

To Be Continued...


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: They are legally in the hands of Ten Thirteen. And they're doing a pretty good job with them. I wish I could thank all of them for the wonderful 6 episodes we just got. And let them know just how greedily we are waiting for more. As if they don't know.

Rating: This one is NC-17. I told you Madame Sarah is never wrong. She never gave any promises as to how long it would take.

Spoilers: Post-Post Modern Prometheus. Cancer arc references.

Author's Notes: Thank you to WildwingSuz for ever so gently suggesting I use a beta and then volunteering her services. If you haven't read her stuff, move out from under that rock and check it out. (After you finish this one, I hope.)

Feedback? GET IN MY BELLY!

* * *

The next evening, I'm knocking on her door just a few minutes early as I usually do when she's expecting me. When she doesn't answer after a time, I knock louder. Just when I am considering if this would be an appropriate time to use my key, I hear her.

"I'm here!" She's rushing down the hallway, she wasn't even home yet. "The mother was late for her own shower, and traffic was a nightmare getting back here. I thought I could make it back in time to change quickly, it was just that bad. And you forgot your phone."

I reach to my pocket, noticing that I have forgotten my phone. "Yeah, I did." I really hope my jaw isn't on the floor. She's wearing a white dress with little blue flowers on it, with a matching blue sweater. Nothing extremely revealing, but a little more low cut than I'm used to. Her hair is a little fuller, also, and her makeup is different. "Scully, you look…" I gulp. How in the hell do I tell Scully, partner of five years, someone I've never given an all out compliment to, someone who might knock me over for saying it, that she looks good? She looks feminine. Not that the Scully I'm used to is an issue, but wow.

She looks at me, first through her lashes, then straight on, daring me to say something. "I look what?"

"Are you packing?" I try to keep my eyes from dipping down to her chest again, but I do look quickly. "Your gun, I mean."

She licks her lips and smiles, "No, why?"

"Because I want to tell you you look good." My eyes rest on her lips for a second, a very nice shade of pink that I'm not used to.

"Thank you." Rather than hurt me, she steps aside to her door, digging through her little handbag for her keys. Even this piques my interest. She usually has little pockets to tuck everything away. But not in this dress. Still, while looking unlike the Scully I know, I realize this is just a side I've never been lucky enough to see.

I turn to her and tentatively run my fingers along the edge of her hair, then tuck it behind her ear when she doesn't pull away. "You look pretty, Scully." I run my fingers down her neck, then pull away after she unlocks and pushes the door open.

"Let me just get ready for dinner." She crosses the room and sets her things down. I want to tell her not to change, that I like this side of her. But really, I want the side of Scully she is most comfortable with. She disappears in the direction of her bedroom, and just when I am contemplating waiting on her couch, she appears again. She is walking towards me. "You know, Mulder, there were a lot of finger foods at that shower and I just don't think I'm ready for dinner, yet."

Oh, God. She's standing right in front of me now. "What did you have in mind?" Helpless smile.

"Are you hungry?"

"Not for dinner, no." This is, on the surface, one of the least stimulating conversation I've ever had. But from the look in her eyes, the electricity I FEEL between us, we could be talking dirty in an adult film. I can feel it in the air, but I can't see it on her face, however. I can't read what she wants. "Scully…"

She closes the space between us to only inches, moving her hands to the side of my face, then her arms around my neck. "What are you hungry for, Mulder?"

At hearing that seductive tone in her voice, the unusual curve of her lips, I know. I move my hands to her waist, then down to her hips, taking in how small she is. I've wrapped my arms around her before, but it still takes me by surprise how narrow she is. "I think you know."

She smirks and closes her eyes before resting her forehead on my chin. I feel her breath puff across my neck once and my fingers tighten on her hips in response, pulling her closer to me. "Do I?"

"Are you kidding?" I can't help my fingers from turning into fists, bunching up the fabric of her dress in my hands. "I want you. Don't you know that?"

She sighs and rests her cheek on my chest, her nose just barely brushes my neck. "Mulder…"

There she goes, saying my name like that again. I move my nose into her hair, breathing her in deeply before mumbling against her scalp. "What are you hungry for, Scully?"

She stands up on her toes, pressing her body into mine as I hold her to me with my hands on her back. Her nose brushes up against my neck again, and I feel her inhale, feel her smelling me. Jesus. I hold her tighter, knowing she must feel my reaction to her. "Mulder…" she mumbles against my neck.

"Scully, what are you hungry for?" I've had to tilt my head now, to give her room to keep doing what she's doing.

"You." And I'm kissing her. I'm kissing her, I'm kissing her. My hands move up her sides, into her hair, tangling there. Holding her mouth to mine. She is meeting my intensity, her hands grasping at my sides. With one hand still holding her head, my other hand moves down to her side. I intentionally run my knuckles down the outside of her breast on the way and she arches into me. I move my hand to her back and hold her tight, leaning over her more.

I stand her up again, and she runs her hands up my sides, over my chest to my shoulders before pushing my jacket off to the floor. She untucks my shirt and begins unbuttoning it, top to bottom. She pushes it off my shoulders on top of my jacket, leaving me in my white undershirt. I push her sweater off in the same way, trailing my hands down her bare shoulders and arms; her dress has no sleeves. I pull her close with a hand on her back once more and kiss her bare shoulder before working my way up to her neck with my lips. I smile against her skin when she gasps and bares her neck to me. "You are hungry, Scully."

"Yes," she sighs and stands higher on her toes, pressing her neck more into my mouth, asking for more. The game is over between us, and she is letting me know what she wants.

My eyes close at her admittance and I kiss her neck, giving her what she wants. I urge her back towards the couch, gently, hoping she will move. Not only does she move, but she turns her back to the bedroom, letting me guide her in that direction instead. 'Ok, we're headed to Scully's bedroom.'

After a few clumsy steps she breaks away from me to my dismay, but she takes my hand and smiles at me in a way that makes me melt. She tilts her head to the doorway of her bedroom with an eyebrow raised, that soft smile on her lips. "Yeah, I'll follow you anywhere."

"How does it feel?" I give her a questioning look. She smiles, letting me know she was being a smart ass and the question was rhetorical.

We make it to her bedroom. The light from her lamps light the room softly. She guides me to stand next to her bed before pulling up on my undershirt. I help her get it off then look down at her. I watch her eyes moving over my chest before her right hand does the same. She brushes her fingertips over my collar bone, lightly to my shoulder. Then back over to the middle of my chest. My eyes grow heavy, but I continue to watch her, feeling like she's burning my skin as she goes. In a good way.

She licks her lips in a way I've seen her do at least a thousand times before she watches her fingers move through my chest hair. First her fingertips, then just as softly with her nails. I suck in a breath through my teeth, every muscle in my body tightens in restraint.

She looks up at me with her lips parted. I see her response to my reaction to her. It's not her face that gives her away, it rarely is. But I see it in her eyes and her accelerated breathing. When she licks her lips again, an innocent action that can't be ignored, I pull her into a crushing kiss with my hands tangled in her hair. Her hand balls into a fist on my chest, scratching me again in the process. I love the way she kisses me. Kissing other women has never been so completely satisfying. Other women have either held something back, making me work for it and try to coax them out. Or they've just been too overpowering, showing me their dominance and control over me. Scully's kiss is perfect, she knows exactly what I'm going for. She meets me halfway with her tongue, moving it in sync with mine. Or offers me her lip just when I want it, allowing me to suck and nibble, gasping and flicking her tongue over one of my own lips. God damn, it's the hottest kiss of my life.

Her gasps and whimpers are becoming more and more frequent, and I want to touch her. My left hand leaves her hair and trails down her neck as we still kiss. I flatten my hand over her sternum, between her breasts, testing the waters. She now has one hand in my hair, holding my mouth to hers in the same way I hold her head. Her other hand grips my upper arm and I feel her fingers twitch, asking me, urging me to keep going.

I feel my way down to her waist, pushing my way down to her stomach, then to her back for just a moment. Just holding her close to me. But I feel her nails push into my tricep as she breaks our kiss, panting against my lips.

I smile and nuzzle her nose with the bridge of mine. "What do you want, Scully?" My voice doesn't sound as smooth as I would have liked, but then again I'm surprised I can still find words.

"Mulder…" My hand holds her closer yet again in response to the way she says my name when we're doing this.

I move my hand back around to her front, my hand flat on her stomach. I move it slowly up her ribs. My fingers feel curiously at the underwire of her bra, the fingers of my other hand twisting up in her hair. "Talk to me, Scully," I mumble against the corner of her mouth before kissing her there.

She puffs out another breath against my lips before squeezing my upper arm again. "Touch me, Mulder."

I kiss her deeply once again as I oblige her request, absorbing her moan as my hand closes over her breast. I press my palm firmly against it before squeezing. I momentarily consider that I may be too firm, until I realize she is pressing herself right back into me. I wonder what that sound is until I realize it's coming from me. From deep in my throat, I break the kiss to tilt her head back and suck eagerly at her bottom lip as my thumb brushes over nipple as best as I can through her dress and bra. I suddenly realize I am probably about to finally find out what that nipple looks like.

I also suddenly realize I don't know how much longer I can wait for that. But of course, Scully is right there with me, as always. She is undoing my belt. Scully is unbuckling my belt and I'm not injured or dying. She gets my pants undone, fortunately without touching my cock. Fortunately, because I haven't even come to grips (hell of a choice of words, for Chrissakes) with the fact that she was even undoing my belt. She pushes my pants down far enough that they fall to the floor, and I back away from her enough to kick off my shoes. She's turned around, reaching behind her. She starts with the zipper on her back and looks at me over her shoulder, making it clear I'm supposed to finish. I move to her, now only in my black socks and boxers as I begin to slowly pull down her zipper. I want to watch my hand, run my finger down her spine as I've imagined doing many times since massaging her. But she's wiggling in front of me, hiking up the skirt of her dress. I pause at her lower back, not completely finished with my task, looking down at her hips curiously.

She looks at me briefly over her shoulder before I realize she's shimmying out of her nylons. She kicks off her heels and steps out of her pantyhose. And dear god, I just got a glimpse of one creamy ass cheek in baby blue silky panties before her skirt slid back down her leg. I reach out for it, sliding my hand up her thigh up under her skirt, begging the image not to go away, like I may never have the chance to see such a sight again.

She straightens up and arches her back into the hand I still have at her zipper as the fingers under her dress find that spot where her ass turns into her thigh and curiously brush against it. When she sighs and presses herself more into my hand, I forget about the zipper at her back and move my hand to her shoulder, gripping it as I grip her ass cheek in my hand. It's a perfect fit for my hand.

I reach around the front of her neck and tilt her head to the side so I can kiss her neck greedily. I am just barely able to restrain myself from marking her skin while kneading her ass in my hand. I reach down and cup her breast again as I take her earlobe between my teeth and flick it with my tongue. She leans against me and moans. I just made Scully go weak in the knees and moan. Holy shit.

She is gripping at my forearm in front of her, urging my hand on as it alternates between pressing, rubbing hard over her whole breast and pulling her nipple between my fingers. I am still working through her clothes. And I soon want to feel more. I stand her up and finish unzipping her dress, watching her body language for any sign she's not okay with this as I push the dress down her shoulders and push it down her arms until it falls to the floor. I return my hand to her shoulder, taking in everything from her shoulder blade down to her tattoo.

I do take the opportunity to run my index finger down her spine now. All the way, between her shoulder blades, over her matching baby blue bra's clasp, over her tattoo to the top of her bikini panties. She visibly shivers and I retrace that path back up her spine, up to rest my hand on her shoulder again. I move closer and nudge her with my cheek to give me access to her neck again.

First I mumble against her ear, "You look so good, Scully." She sighs and leans into me one more. My fingers are lightly stroking her collarbone over her shoulder, my left hand resting on her waist. I slowly inch my way toward her breast again, nuzzling down her neck with my nose, stopping to smell her here and there. She smells just as she always does, but never have I ever gotten to breathe her in this fully. I've come to love the smell of her, as much as anything else about her. She gives off a sharp, professional image, but if you get close enough, as close as I do most days, she smells soft. Clean. Feminine. "You smell really good, too."

My fingers are rubbing, stroking between her breasts, almost leisurely. She whispers, "Touch me, Mulder?" Her hand is on my forearm, urging me to touch her breast again.

"You're killing me," I mumble against a patch of skin on her shoulder, learning then that spot is sensitive by her reaction. I latch on and suck before reaching over and pressing against her nipple through her bra. I circle it roughly, feeling it tight under my fingers through the fabric.

"More," she says on a sigh, urging me with that hand on my arm to move under the fabric.

I nod, and rather than shoving my hand under the fabric and grope her, I run my other hand up her back. I hesitate briefly before unfastening the clasp. I use both hands to pull the straps down her arms and let it fall to the growing pile of clothes beneath us. My breath is ragged against her neck and I can't even hide it. I rest my forehead in the crook of her neck for a few moments, rubbing my hands up and down her arms, trying to calm myself.

She reaches across her with her left hand to take hold of my right. For a split second, I think she will place it on her breast. I feel my jaw clench in anticipation until she takes my fingers and places them on the pulse point on her neck. She moves her fingers to my wrist, taking my own pulse. I feel her pulse racing and move my mouth back to the crook of her neck, mumbling her name against her skin. Knowing that her heart is beating as wildly as mine, somehow calms me enough to continue on.

I take her hand in mine, my fingers playing with hers for a moment before placing it on the back of my head. I flatten my hand over hers, making sure she will keep hers there. My eyes are closed, smelling and nuzzling her neck. My hand returns to her, stroking my way lightly down her collarbone, wanting to take it slow but failing. My hand is already inching down to her breast. She stands up on her toes and arches her back.

I stop everything on her neck and rest my lips on her shoulder, eyes still closed, but ready to look. I place my palm over her breast, fully, for the first time. She sighs and squeezes the back of my neck at the same time I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. Finally, I open my eyes and look at my hand over her, panting against her skin. I feel my jaw clench as I pull my hand back, my fingers gently squeezing her as I do, all the way down to pinching her nipple.

Fuck. My left hand moves from where it's been resting on her waist for quite a while to her belly, pulling her tight against me. I groan at the sensation of her pressing right up against my erection and move my arm around her waist, holding her tightly there. I'm biting at her neck a little, taking in the sight of her nipple, of my hand working over it, of it hardening from what I'm doing to her. My eyes and hand jump to her other breast, giving it the same attention. A dark, pink/red color. Maybe larger areolas than I would have imagined. Yet, just as perfect as I ever could have dreamt.

I feel myself throbbing between our bodies now, and know the time for restraint and taking it slow is coming to an end. I take the shell of her ear between my teeth, gently flicking with my tongue. She shivers against me with every little breath out of my nose. I move my hand to her stomach, pushing at the hem of her panties.

"Yes," she whispers, before I even have a chance to hesitate. That's all I needed to hear. My fingers find their way down quickly, squeezing her breast hard in my other hand at how wet she is.

"Holy shit, Scully," I mumble into her hair, unable to keep my mouth busy on her neck any longer. My middle finger quickly moves through her little patch of hair there, down to her clit. She jumps and moans in surprise, but when I try it once more to see if she can handle it she moans deep in her throat, her nails digging into the back of my neck. "Fuck…sorry." I nuzzle into her hair behind her ear, that word has seldom slipped past my lips in her presence.

She huffs out a laugh, turning her head toward me slightly. "More."

"F-Christ." I almost said it again. I quickly slip my finger down between her folds, pressing at her opening. I feel her fullness there and nearly lose my shit, I have to pull back from her to ease the pressure of her back against me.

I adjust my hand to push my finger into her to the first knuckle and I feel her knees buckle in my arms. It is not far to the bed. I grab her hand from behind my head and guide her there to lean over it, with her elbow on the bed, and I lean over her. My hand is over hers, my palm on the back of her hand. She is squeezing the hell out of my fingers between hers. "Don't stop," she moans from deep in her throat. I nod to myself and nudge her legs apart a little more before curling my finger up to search for her g-spot.

She lets out a little whimper and presses more fully into my hand when I find it. I'm fingering Scully. God damn it, I'm fingering Scully. The angle is completely awkward, but I do my best with my nose buried in her hair. I pull out my finger to stroke her clit but she shakes her head. "Please, Mulder."

She's close, I thrust my finger back inside her, nibbling at her shoulder. "Let me feel you come, Scully. You're so wet, God. I want you too…" I can't help settling my cock on her ass, right between her cheeks. I thrust my hips against hers, dry humping her ass through both of our underwear, and after I shudder a moan against her skin she is coming. Squeezing the hell out of my hand and the comforter now balled in her other hand. I listen and try desperately to ride it out with my cramping hand.

She is coming down now, and my movements slow until my hand just can't take anymore. I move my hand up over hers, still fisting her comforter. I move my middle finger into her fist, letting her feel her wetness on me. She shivers under me and lets out a satisfied hum of approval.

I move my hips against her again at that sound. "Scully…" If it wasn't our first time, I'd be fucking her right up against the side of this bed right now.

She nods and squeezes both of my hands before moving to stand, so I do the same and help her up. She turns to me and I take her face between my hands, kissing her just as slowly as I can. But I go a little crazy when I smell her on my hand, so close to my nose. She breaks our kiss and sits down on the bed. "Mulder, I'm ready."

I take in the sight of her, scooting back onto the bed. From her perfect breasts down to her flat stomach. She's settles her head up near the pillows. I get my boxers off quickly and crawl up towards her, keeping my eyes locked with hers. I take her calf in my hand and spread her legs so I can stand on my knees between her feet, resting my hand on her raised knee. I gently massage her thigh as her eyes travel down my chest, down my abs until she takes in the sight of my erection.

Her lips part and her tongue darts out to lick her upper lip. The object of her scrutiny throbs under her gaze. I squeeze her thigh, watching her watch me react to her. She props up on an elbow, looks in my eyes then back down, and reaches out to hold me in her hand. She squeezes me gently, tests my firmness, runs her finger over that sensitive part just under the head. I suck in a breath through my teeth, gathering up every last bit of restraint I have. I look down to see her tiny hand on me just as she circles her thumb over the tip of my cock, spreading around the fluid now oozing out of me. When she brushes her thumb over that spot again, now lubricated with precum, I tremble and moan.

I watch her pump her fist once, twice, squeezing tighter on the second time. I thrust into her hand. She's exploring, learning me. She knows me better than anyone on this planet ever has, but there's still more to learn.

I slowly thrust into her hand once, twice, beginning to tremble with restraint. I look at her, and find her eyes are already on mine. "Now," she says. Not that she needed to say a thing. It's written all over her face.

I take her hand and raise it above her head, settling my hips down between hers. I kiss her deeply as she adjusts her legs, her thighs raised high above my hips. I moan deep into her mouth when my dick makes contact with her wetness. I grip her hand above her head and thrust my other hand through her hair, my fingers curling over the top of her head. "Scully, do we need a-"

She cuts me off, not with words, but with actions. Her other hand moves between us, and I arch to give her the room. She takes hold of me once more to guide me home.

"Fuck," I say as I begin to enter her, and I kiss her in another apology. My moan and her whimper meet in the middle along with our tongues, and it takes all that I have not to enter in one quick thrust.

She breaks the kiss and winces, sucking in a breath through her teeth. Her back arches and she turns her head to the side. I stop my slow in and out movements, resting my nose down on her neck. "Don't stop, Mulder. Don't stop." That hand that had guided me inside her is on my waist, scratching me, urging me to move.

I let go of the hand above her head, moving my hand to grip one of the rails of her headboard. I shiver, let out a breath on her neck, sending the shiver into her. Which, in turn, causes me to involuntarily thrust into her a bit more.

I feel her muscles clench around me, then invite me in a bit more. I pull out again, almost completely. Then, despite my best attempt at restraint, I thrust. I pull myself back into her with that hand gripping the headboard, entering her to the hilt. "Oh! Mulder!"

"Sorry, I'm sorry. Jesus, Scully."

She reaches up a shaky hand and strokes my sweat slicked hair, a familiar gesture of comfort that would be innocent if I weren't balls deep inside her. "It's okay," she pants. Her thighs are quivering on both sides of my hips.

That's good, seeing as I can't move for the moment. My whole body trembles with every quiver of her muscles around me. "You're killing me. Feels so good. Are you ok?" My fingers twitch over her scalp where they're still buried in her hair. I hope I'm not pulling it.

She hums and nods, her cheek finding mine. I feel her relaxing around me, her muscles adjusting and wanting more. Her legs move higher up toward my ribs. Her hand moves higher up to grip my shoulder. She nuzzles my cheek and mumbles, "move."

I take a few deep breaths before I begin slowly but surely stroking in and out. She adjusts her hips, and when she whimpers, indicating I'm hitting the right spot, I don't dare change what I'm doing. I keep that steady pace, not wanting to lose it before I bring her there with me. I distract myself as I always have in such situations. Talking. "Do you feel that, Scully? I can't believe how good this feels." She whimpers and tries to urge me to move faster. I thrust harder into her just once, but don't pick up my pace. She's not there yet. I continue mumbling into her ear. "You're so fucking amazing. I just can't find any other words to describe how unbelievably good we are. Doesn't it feel right? Like we were made for this?" I untangle my hand from her hair and manage to squeeze my arm past hers to cup her breast firmly. Whether she believes it or not, I subscribe to this notion with every fiber of my being.

She tilts her hips up again, her body begging me for more. "Oh…Mulder, really? I thought you didn't believe in that stuff."

I thrust harder again, unable to keep from moving a bit faster. "I know, that sounds utterly cliché. But, you know me. I'll believe in the idea of anything. But this I know. You're the one who always needs convincing"

"Do you ever shut up?" I hear the smile in her voice.

I enter her a bit more roughly on the next thrust, moaning and chuckling as I nip the front of her neck. "Don't you know me at all?"

"Yes, Mulder. Look at me."

I do, and I see it all there in her eyes. Everything I feel, everything I feared she didn't know, would never return, is there, reflected back. "Yes…" I say through clenched teeth, trying to stop and take a moment. Body wins over mind, though, past the point of stopping. I grip her thigh, the bruises I will leave are just a passing thought. "Come with me, Scully." My mouth is a wanderer, unable to settle. My thrusts are becoming erratic and I'm dangerously close.

She whimpers and I feel her body still as she reaches the edge. I think I hear the words "follow you anywhere" escape her lips. Please let her come I think as I begin to spill inside her. The last thought I have is relief as I vaguely sense her clawing at my back, saying my name and God's.

Wrapped up in each other minutes later, she already falling asleep with her nose in my neck. I contemplate what I believe in. What happened to my sister, aliens, the government, the Syndicate, who knows if I will ever untangle that bullshit in my head. But this stuff, I think as I gently untangle her hair and kiss her forehead, this stuff, I believe in.

* * *

THE END.


End file.
